


Radio Mornings

by Cân Cennau (cancennau)



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fingering, Frottage, Gentleness, M/M, Morning Wood, Other, Sleep Groping, dubcon, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:45:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancennau/pseuds/C%C3%A2n%20Cennau
Summary: prompt: voice kink // wet dreamsCertain voices have certain effects on Kelas. One morning, Elim takes advantage.





	Radio Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [ds9 discord kink bingo](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ds9discordkinkbingo_spring2018) challenge.

They always had the best morning sex on  _ ta’wepok  _ \- and Elim knew full well that Toran Ba’kar on the radio was almost certainly the reason, no matter what Kelas said.

Toran Ba’kar was a radio news presenter who presented the morning show on  _ ta’wepok _ , whose deep, rich voice had attracted fans of all genders, most of which had zero interest in the news otherwise. Kelas was one of these, and there wasn’t a  _ ta’wepok  _ day where the radio show did not come on in the morning. It was set to their alarm, and after a few minutes of the gentle voice talking about the weather or politics or the environment, Kelas was always more pliant, always warmer, a little more desperate to be fucked and touched on those days, and they never asked for the radio to be switched off as they both lazily rutted and fucked each other. Kelas, of course, would claim that it was a subconscious desire to beat the  _ ta’wepok  _ blues that made their sex so good, or would blame it on the “latent aphrodisiac properties” of whatever Elim had cooked for them both the night before. Which was somewhat to be expected - getting Kelas to admit anything of a sexual or kinky nature was somewhat like trying to pull teeth with a teaspoon. 

But if Elim was in the business of refuting Kelas’ excuses with fact, then all he needed to do was to wait until the radio turned itself on, at exactly 7 o’ clock, and then watch Kelas as they slept. This particular morning, Elim had taken a 15 minute soujourn in the bathroom to neaten and tidy himself in time for work, cleaning teeth, showering and oiling his scales. In the fifteen minutes it had taken Elim to use the bathroom, Kelas had rolled over onto their back, and lay like some wanton youth desperate for sex, their thick, silvery hair a mess around their head and all the obvious signs of arousal. Their  _ tolv  _ were pebbled and peaked, hard as anything, and their legs were spread out with their most private parts on display, their genital slit glimmering with wetness. One of their hands lay to the side, but the other was pressed into their  _ chuva _ , the indentation of which was a aroused blue. As Elim got back into the bed, Kelas did not even stir, and remained asleep, and from being this close Elim could just about taste-scent their desire. He watched the old doctor for a few minutes, admired the gradual black flush that creeped into their ridges and the rotund curve of their belly, the slight shift in posture that displayed their crotch evermore prominently, and the soft, barely perceptible moans and murmurs as they dreamed.

Elim wondered what they were dreaming about - it was certainly a lustful fantasy, by the small jerks and movements Kelas was exhibiting. Perhaps they were dreaming of Toran Ba’kar’s deep voice, how it would reverberate around their _prUt_ as they swallowed Kelas’ parts whole? Or perhaps it was a fantasy of him - the stars knew how many _he_ had had about Kelas - where Kelas rode his _prUt,_ as he was particularly wont to do whenever the mood struck? Elim’s mind was very interested in both of these concepts, and it watch hungrily as Kelas clearly became more aroused in sleep, their back arching a little, flushing harder, and the scent-taste of their desire thick on Elim’s tongue and _so’c._ The hand on the bed twitched against the sheets, and their hips rose a little - Elim was almost sure they were fantasizing about being fucked, and the thought drove him wild. Unable to resist, Elim reached out and touched Kelas’ chest, his thumb coming to rub against Kelas’ pebbled _tolv._ The sleeping doctor seemed to fully appreciate these touches, pushing very slightly into them, murmuring as their subconscious sought this pleasure. Elim fussed over one, then the other, then ran his fingertips across the flushed indentations of Kelas’ _chula._ With a sigh, Kelas’ hand fell away from their lower belly, allowing Elim free passage to the source of their desire, without the risk of waking Kelas from their fantasy.

The space between their thighs was soft, warm and wet - Elim could feel the tip of Kelas’  _ prUt  _ peeking out of their genital space, waiting to be touched, to be everted when pleasure could be sought. Elim did not play with their  _ prUt _ just yet, instead opting to explore the scales around their entrance, the blackened raised lips of the genital slit, the sensitive, puffy scales around it, and the slick fluid that was already dribbling from the space. Perhaps if Elim was another man, the idea that Toran Ba’kar could get Kelas so aroused from only his voice may have made him jealous, but Elim wasn’t threatened by him. Ba’kar was several wires away, unlikely to come and steal Kelas away, and anyway Elim knew, and was reassured every day, that Kelas had no interest in leaving him. Moving his hand a little, Elim listened carefully to Kelas’ murmures and small sounds, finding the and exploring the most pleasureable spaces by Kelas’ subconscious guiding. They moaned, not too softly, as Elim pressed and caressed the swollen, aroused scale just on the inside of their genital space, their  _ ajan _ , and turned to press their face into Elim’s neckridge with a sigh.

“Elim…?” they asked, sleepy and quiet. Elim hushed them with a gentle kiss, keeping his petting light and sensual. In their shared quiet, Toran Ba’kar’s voice drifted around through the warm, heady air, talking about some errant politician or other, the dulcet tones sinking deep into their bones. Kelas settled after a few moments, reassured that they were safe, and sank back into the pillows, dropping back into into whatever wet fantasies they were dreaming up. Elim’s fingers pressed the thick scale of Kelas’ genital lips between finger and thumb, carefully teasing and rolling each scale with close care and attention. He heard Kelas’ breath hitch and sigh at his ministrations, and felt the slickness of their  _ ajan  _ increase somewhat, and their thighs part, opening and rising up just a little, allowing him easier access to their most sensitive parts. Elim pressed a little deeper, pushing two fingers into the loose folds of Kelas’ genital space, his nails gently scraping the base of their uneverted  _ prUt _ . The shuddering of Kelas’ body told Elim exactly what they thought of those fingers, and Elim happily obliged, rubbing the pads of his fingers up against the small member, gently but with enough pressure to make Kelas vibrate with desire.

Kelas everted just as Toran Ba’kar moved onto describing the traffic, their  _ prUt  _ blossoming with a burst of thick taste-scent, hot and syrupy on Elim’s tongue and  _ so’c.  _ The sweet taste-scent made Elim want to crawl down to the hot space, press his lips and tongue deep into Kelas’ crotch, but he restrained himself, not wanting to wake Kelas from their fantasies. He pulled his hand back enough that only his fingertips remained inside his love, and positioned his palm so that the small  _ prUt  _ slid comfortably in the crevices of his palm. There, he rocked his palm, pushing his fingers deep to the second knuckle then out to his fingertips, the slightly rough scale of his hand catching on every ridge and frill of the exposed member. Kelas did not hesitate to make their pleasure known, mewling a little each time their  _ prUt  _ slid across the scale, and their  _ ajan  _ tensing a little every time Elim’s fingers slid out, as if trying to keep them inside for as long as possible.

Kelas breathing was definitely faster now, their ridges almost black with lust and the sweet fluid that dripped from their almost gaping  _ ajan  _ pooled and dripped across Garak’s hand, glimmering like liquid silver. Their hips were jerking a little now - not as much as if they were awake, but certainly Elim could feel the small writhing motions against his palm, seeking friction and pleasure. Gently, he fisted his hand around the weeping hardness, and Kelas’ subconscious movement honed in on it instantly, rutting and writhing minutely against it, gently pushing and fucking the warm space. He scattered kisses along their chest as he slowly jerked Kelas’  _ prUt,  _ gently nipping when he thought he could get away with it, feeling the vibrations of Kelas’ quiet mewls and grunts through their chest rather than hearing them. His own  _ prUt  _ had by this point shown considerable interest, and he rhythmically clenched and relaxed his inner muscles around it, teasing and pleasing himself as he masturbated Kelas, who was getting ever more vocal.

The sound of Toran Ba’kar faded away into some modern pop song that Elim didn’t care for, but it didn’t seem to bother Kelas, who was now frantically rutting against his palm, seeking their release. Elim played with the idea of teasing them some more, but decided against it - Elim wanted to see Kelas’ come splatter up his arm almost as much as Kelas wanted to orgasm, and Elim’s  _ prUt  _ had already everted in anticipation. He tightened the fist that was already around Kelas’  _ prUt  _ and dipped his head to their chest, letting his tongue trace intricate patterns across their chest, laving the dip in their  _ chula  _ and the peaks of their  _ tolv _ . As Kelas’ mewls reached fever pitch, Elim picked the  _ tolv  _ closest to them, and sucked hard on it, feeling the pulses of Kelas’ orgasm beat through it as they peaked with a cry. Shuddering and shaking, Kelas’  _ prUt  _ spat its opaque fluid into Elim’s fist and up his wrist, mingling with the shiny lubricant from Kelas’  _ ajan.  _ After eeking every last ounce of ejaculate from Kelas’ body, Elim rolled onto his back, and smeared the mixed fluid across his chest, his flushed  _ chula  _ and  _ chuva _ , and down to his throbbing  _ prUt _ . It only took him a few strokes to achieve his own peak, and he shivered as his orgasm rushed through him, his spunk splattering up the curve of his belly.  


As he caught his breath, he looked to the side, at Kelas, who still slept despite Elim’s activities this morning. Their face was far more relaxed now, gentle and soft in sleep, their dreams settling from whatever fantasy they had been occupied by earlier. With a gentle kiss, Elim left them to their slumber, and returned to the bathroom to clean up what remained of their pleasure.


End file.
